


countless ways to say i love you

by hopeless_hope



Series: things you said [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Depression, Dissociation, Drinking, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Precious Peter Parker, Sleepy Peter Parker, Team as Family, This is a mess tbh, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Whump, Worried Tony Stark, god where do i even start, kind of?, so much hair-playing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 15:40:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18369011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeless_hope/pseuds/hopeless_hope
Summary: “You really love him, don’t you?”Tony’s first instinct is to shy away from the strong word and shake his head. But then Peter turns his face into the palm of Tony’s hand, like a kitten seeking out the soothing touch, and Tony nods.“Yeah,” he admits, swallowing thickly at the sudden swell of emotion in his chest. “I do.”orOver the years, Tony says a lot of things to and about Peter.





	countless ways to say i love you

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Don't Worry, We'll Be Home By Sunrise](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12133782) by [azul_ora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/azul_ora/pseuds/azul_ora). 



> Heed the warnings in the tags! Also, keep in mind that this story isn't at all linear.
> 
> Big thanks to @losingmymindtonight for letting me complain about writing and also just yell about irondad.

**things you said at 1am**

“Peter!” Tony calls, bursting into the room. “ _Pete –_ hey, it’s okay, it’s me,” he says soothingly, quieting the distressed kid in front of him.

FRIDAY had woken him to let him know Peter seemed to be experiencing a nightmare, and as soon as Tony had gotten close, he’d heard panicked pleas for help making their way through the door.

Peter’s eyes fly open as he thrashes on the bed, instinctively curling away from the new presence in the room. Tony holds his hands up as Peter stares at him with wide, frightened eyes, breaths coming in short gasps.

“It’s just me,” Tony repeats lowly, watching as Peter works to calm himself down. Tony waits patiently, not wanting to spook the poor kid any further. Eventually, Peter takes in a deep, shaky breath and looks up at him.

“I’m sorry,” Peter mutters, and Tony resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“I don’t accept stupid apologies,” Tony says promptly, and Peter just looks down at his hands, which are tugging anxiously at the covers. “You wanna talk about it?”

Peter just shakes his head, heart still racing in his chest. Tony decides to leave it at that – there’ll be plenty of time to talk in the morning. And they _will_ talk about it, because Tony knows all too well what happens when you let your monsters linger.

“What can I do?” he asks then, because the kid looks so sad and tired, and Tony can’t just do nothing. Peter looks up at him, eyes shining with unshed tears.

“Stay?” Peter asks in a small voice, shifting to the side to make room for Tony. The kid looks scared that Tony will say no, and Tony quickly sits next to him, back propped against the wall so Peter can rest his head on his lap.

“As if I’d ever leave.”

* * *

**things you said through your teeth**

“Peter, get out of there right now!” Tony practically yells through the screen. He’s in the suit, quickly headed to Queens, where a fire’s broken out in an apartment complex, and Peter’s trying to play hero.

“Just another minute, Mr. Stark!” Peter insists, and Tony’s heart flies into his throat when Peter kicks down a door and is met with angry, glowing flames.

“ _Now,_ Peter!” Tony growls, voice edging on hysterical. “Everyone is out and safe _except for you._ ”

The camera feed shifts as the kid shakes his head. “The little girl said her dog is still here! I can’t leave him, she’ll be devastated.”

“Peter, the suit’s technology isn’t built to withstand this kind of heat, and the structural integrity of the building is compromised,” Tony hears Karen inform him, and he swears his heart freezes in his chest.

“Just a second, I think I hear him!” Peter tells them, taking a sharp turn into a hallway. As soon as he turns into the room, a loud crash sounds through the feed, and Tony curses loudly. He feels his left arm trembling, a telltale sign of an impending anxiety attack.

“Peter, I swear to _God-_ “ Tony hisses through gritted teeth, willing the suit to move faster.

“Found him!” Peter announces, even his voice is a breathless with fear. Tony can barely see anything through the feed with the thick puffs of smoke making the place nearly opaque.

“Good, _now get out of there!”_ Tony yells. There’s a lot of rustling, and he hears Peter murmur soothingly to the dog.

“It’s okay, buddy! I’m going to pick you up and we’re just gonna go right out the window,” Peter tells it, and Tony kind of wants to strangle him. To his relief, Peter wastes no more time before picking the canine up and jumping out the window, shooting a web out in front of him.

And not a moment too soon, either – Peter’s barely touched the ground when another loud crash sounds and Peter turns, the camera in his suit focusing on the crumbling building.

“Thank God we got everyone out,” Peter comments with a nervous laugh as Tony lands in front of him, pointing an angry finger at him. Tony gives the kid a murderous look, but Peter can see the worry and relief in his eyes.

“I’m going to kill you.”

* * *

**things you said too quietly**

“Admit it, you love having me here while May’s out of town,” Peter teases as they plop down onto the couch for a Star Wars marathon.

“Nope. In fact, I think I need to find a bottle of bug spray to get rid of the bugs,” Tony quips, and Peter throws a pillow at him.

“ _Tony,_ ” Peter whines.

“ _Peter,”_ Tony mocks in the same tone, throwing the pillow back at him.

“You’re mean,” Peter informs him, and Tony laughs. “Besides, May told me you sounded excited when she asked you if I could stay here for the week.”

“You Parkers are insufferable,” Tony mumbles. Peter just gives him a pointed look, eyes shining with mirth and adoration.

(It scares Tony. It scares him to know that this precious kid loves him so much. What if he breaks him?)

Eventually, Tony sighs and mumbles, “Fine. I love having you here.”

“What was that?” Peter says innocently. “I didn’t quite catch that. FRIDAY, did you hear that?”

“No, Peter,” the AI answers in amusement. “It was too quiet for my sensors to pick up.”

“Bullshit,” Tony says accusingly. Peter just gives him another expectant look. Tony just smirks and says, “Okay, okay! I love babysitting the spider-baby.”

Peter scowls at that. “Hey! I’m not a baby!”

Tony whacks him gently with another pillow. “Of course you are. You’re my favorite spider-baby.”

“I’m your _only_ spider-kid,” Peter points out. Tony slings an arm around his shoulders.

“Thank God for that.”

* * *

**things you said over the phone**

“Pete, you wanna tell me why FRIDAY says you’ve been sitting on a roof for two hours?” Tony asks, trying to sound nonchalant.

For a second, Tony doesn’t think Peter’s going to answer. And then –

“I don’t know,” the teenager mutters in a sullen voice, and Tony’s chest tightens with anxiety. _This isn’t like him._

“Sure you do,” Tony counters, willing himself to stay calm. There’s a bad feeling in his gut. The nature of Peter’s job means that he spends a lot of time perched on rooftops, but this… this is different.

On the other end of the line, Peter heaves a heavy sigh. “I’m just tired, Mr. Stark,” he says dully.

Fear grips Tony tightly, and he tries to keep his voice steady as he says, “Well that’s convenient, because you have a room here with your own bed to rest on.” He’s already suiting up and racing towards Peter’s location.

Peter laughs humorlessly, and the sound rattles Tony’s nerves. “Yeah, I know.”

“What do you need, buddy?” Tony asks almost desperately. For a moment, there’s just silence on the other end. And then Peter’s breath hitches in a sound halfway between a sob and a laugh.

“Come get me?” Peter chokes out, and Tony’s heart breaks at the sound.

“I’m already on my way.”

* * *

**things you didn’t say at all**

They’ve just finished dinner at a fancier restaurant and are heading to Happy’s waiting car when Peter stops. Tony immediately goes on alert.

“What’s wrong?” he asks sharply, following Peter’s gaze. Nothing looks out of the ordinary. People are headed home from work, and the hustle of the city is soothingly familiar.

“Nothing, I just need to—” Without any further explanation, Peter jogs a little bit away, leaving a startled Tony to stare after him with a mixture of exasperation and confusion. Then, Peter stops in front of an old lady, and Tony understands.

The woman is hobbling slowing to her car, struggling under the weight of her groceries, and Tony’s heart softens when Peter talks to her, enthusiastically taking most of the load from her and storing it into her van.

As the lady thanks Peter, Tony can’t help but feel a twinge of self-loathing. He hadn’t noticed her struggling. He never seems to notice things like that.

 _How do you do it, kid?_ Tony thinks. _How are you so_ good _?_

He knows the kid looks up to him. He sees the way the kid looks at him, like he could rearrange all the stars in the sky just for him.

What Peter doesn’t know is that it’s Tony who looks up to _him._

* * *

**things you said on a quiet night**

Tony had promised Peter he’d take the kid to see the stars one day. So after the Snap, after it’s all over, they find themselves at the Natural Bridges National Monument Park in Utah, laying on their backs and looking up at the vast expanse of night sky.

It’s a far cry from the crowded city that Peter’s used to. For the most part, they lay in silence, each content to stay within the confines of their own thoughts. It’s awhile before Peter speaks up.

“Does the fear ever go away?” he asks suddenly, his voice small. The stars are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, he thinks, but he knows what hides behind them now. They’re not the wonder they would have been Before.

Tony turns his head sharply to look at the kid, pain flashing across his face. His heart tugs, taking in the look on Peter’s face as the kid watches the sky, something sad and tired in his gaze. Resigned. Accepting. Tony never wanted that for him. Not his kid.

He gently reaches out and takes Peter’s hand into his own, rubbing soothing circles into the back of it. Grounding him.

Tony looks back up at the sky and says, “If I ever find out, I’ll let you know.”

* * *

**things you said while we were driving**

“Get your feet off my dash,” Tony chides, swatting at Peter’s lanky legs. “This car costs more than your tuition will.”

Peter lowers his feet and grins at him. “Who said I’m going to college?” he asks cheekily, and Tony shoots him a dry look.

“Oi, enough of that. Weren’t you just having Pepper proofread your MIT essay for the _fourth_ time the other day?” Tony teases.

“It was the _third_ time, which is completely reasonable, especially considering she caught a dumb typo,” Peter tells him, shuddering. “They never would have accepted me if they saw that I left off an ‘r’ in embarrassment.”

Tony huffs out a laugh. “You’re too hard on yourself. Anyway, I’m sure it’s just about perfect now.  MIT would be crazy not to accept you – you’ll get in for sure.” _I’ll drag that school through the mud if you don’t._

He feels Peter look at him, eyes shining. “You really think so?” he asks, voice small and hopeful.

The admiration and hero-worship with which Peter’s never stopped looking at Tony with scares him. It feels like a fragile thing. He wishes the kid knew how much better than the rest of them he already is. Tony gives him a confident smile.

“I _know_ so.”

* * *

**things you said when you were crying**

“You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” Tony murmurs over and over, holding a bloody Peter to his chest. Peter’s head lolls back onto his shoulder as he hangs limp in his mentor’s arms.

The teenager is completely out of it, and Tony cradles his head gently, running a shaking hand through the matted curls.

“Stay with me, buddy, stay with me,” Tony pleads. “Bruce will be here any minute.”

He presses a desperate kiss to Peter’s forehead, tears falling into the kid’s messy hair. Tony squeezes him as tightly as he dares and prays to God for a little more time.

“Hang on, baby,” he chokes out. He’s never known a fear quite like this. “Just stay with me.”

* * *

**things you said when i was crying**

“Mr. Stark…” Peter calls, grabbing Tony’s immediate attention. “I don’t feel so good.” His voice is shaky as he looks down at his hands, his entire body abuzz with panic. He takes a hesitant step towards his mentor.

“You’re alright,” Tony says calmly, trying to reassure himself as much as the frightened kid in front of him.

“I don’t know – I don’t know what’s happening,” Peter stutters, stumbling forward and falling into Tony’s arms. He gasps with a mixture of panic and pain, clinging to Tony’s neck with the desperation of a child.

“I don’t wanna go,” he cries into Tony’s shoulder. “I don’t wanna go.”

Tony lowers them both to the ground while Peter continues to cry. “Sir please, please I don’t wanna go,” Peter begs, and Tony thinks that this is what the world sounds like before it falls apart. _His_ world.

“I don’t wanna go,” Peter repeats, voice high pitched and desperate as Tony lays him on the ground.

He tries so hard – oh god, Tony can _see_ how hard Peter tries to hang on. Peter’s body is trying to heal itself, but its being ripped apart faster than it can say together.

Briefly, Tony’s mind flashes back to a moment where he held Peter in his arms just like this and begged God for more time.

 _I’ve used up all my favors,_ he thinks in despair. “I’m sorry,” Peter whispers.

 _You’re alright,_ Tony had said.

The last words he ever said to Peter were a lie.

* * *

**things you said that made me feel like shit**

The words stick to him like a branding. They inject themselves into his veins, rattle around in his head, plague him with the feeling that Peter Parker will never be good enough.

“If you’re nothing without the suit, then you shouldn’t have it.”

* * *

**things you said when you were drunk**

He shouldn’t have broken into the alcohol. Not with the kid at the Compound. Or at all. But it’s been weeks and weeks since he’s managed to get a decent night’s sleep, weeks since the nightmares let him rest.

And dammit, he’s tired of seeing the kid crumble in his arms, each time saying something different in the moments before he turns to dust.

“This is all your fault.”

“I hate you.”

“It should have been you.”

The thing is, even though Peter’s never said those words, they still ring true to Tony, and he can’t help but wish he’d never gotten close to the kid if it meant keeping him safe. He lets the burning stream of liquid wash the words from his mind, but the sentiment stays.

His left arm trembles violently, and in a moment of pure frustration, he hurls the glass at the wall, barely registering the sound of shattering glass.

Tony rests his elbows on the bar counter and puts his head in his hands, willing the ever-present terror to go away.

“Mr. Stark?” a soft voice calls, startling him.

Tony looks up, heart pounding at the sight of Peter staring at him with wide, worried eyes. Peter takes in Tony’s disheleved appearance before shifting his gaze to the broken glass littering the floor, and his face floods with understanding.

Tony hates it.

“Here, let me—”  Peter moves to grab the broom and presumably sweep up the glass, but a hot fury races through Tony’s veins, sharp and irrational.

“Leave it,” Tony hisses, and Peter freezes, a startled look on his face.

In the back of Tony’s head, something cold and unfeeling tells him that he’s going to hurt the kid again. He always does the wrong thing. The best thing to do is to push him away. He’ll be safer that way.

“Mr. Stark, I can help—”  Peter tries again, and Tony bangs a fist onto the counter, immediately hating himself for the way it makes Peter flinch. He knows what he has to do.

“Just _go_ , Peter,” Tony practically snarls. _Stay,_ he wants to say instead _._ “I don’t want you here.” _I don’t want you to see me like this._ “Leave.”

Tony watches the hurt and confusion flash across Peter’s face before the kid hesitantly turns and leaves.

_You’re too good for me._

* * *

**things you said when you thought i was asleep**

Peter falls asleep two episodes into _Star Trek: Discovery._

Tony’s not even a little surprised. The poor kid had been up late every night for the past two weeks studying for exams, on top of patrol and decathlon during the week. Internship days were spent with Tony and Bruce helping him go over science and math concepts, while Steve helped with social studies.

After weeks of constant stress and barely getting any sleep, it’s no surprise that he completely passes out during their “Congrats, you survived exams” _Star Trek_ marathon. Peter’s head is pillowed on Tony’s lap as the TV plays at low volume.

Tony feels the weight of someone’s gaze, and turns to find Rhodey leaning against the far wall and watching them both with a fond look on his face.

“He’s passed out, huh?”

Tony looks down at Peter, unable to keep the small smile off his face. “He’s had a long couple of weeks.”

Rhodey simply nods and watches as Tony absentmindedly runs his fingers through the kid’s soft curls. “You really love him, don’t you?”

Tony’s first instinct is to shy away from the strong word and shake his head. But then Peter turns his face into the palm of Tony’s hand, like a kitten seeking out the soothing touch, and Tony nods.

“Yeah,” he admits, swallowing thickly at the sudden swell of emotion in his chest. “I do.”

Rhodey gives him a knowing look, and Tony looks away, clearing his throat quietly. “Anyway, I’d better get the spider-baby to bed.”

He shifts slowly, reluctant to jostle the kid, and smiles when Peter lets out an involuntary whine at the loss of contact. “I know, I know,” Tony croons, swiftly picking the kid up bridal style.

“Not a _word,_ ” he tells Rhodey threateningly as he walks past him and in the direction of Peter’s room.

“Of course,” Rhodey says with a smirk, and Tony rolls his eyes, continuing down the hall and into the kid’s room. He softens again when Peter snuggles into the crook of his neck.

 _This damn kid,_ he thinks as he gently lays him on the bed and tucks the comforter around him. It’s so achingly domestic, and Tony wonders distantly if this is what being a father feels like. He shakes the thought from his head.

He can’t help but brush away the stray curl that’s fallen over the kid’s face, smiling softly when Peter once again leans into the touch. Sometimes he forgets how tactile the kid is. In a moment of pure impulse and emotion-driven action, Tony leans down and presses a soft kiss to Peter’s forehead.

He straightens up again, surprised at himself. He berates himself for the action, for being weak in a moment of longing. He quickly starts to make his way out of the room. _Why would you do that, Tony? The kid deserves better than you. He could never –_

“Mr. Stark?” a tired voice slurs behind him. Tony turns to find Peter blinking up at him sleepily. “I love you, too.”

Tony spends the rest of the night having FRIDAY replay those words.

* * *

**things you said at the kitchen table**

“Since when can you cook?” Tony asks interestedly as he sits at the table, watching Peter sprinkle seasoning onto the chicken.

“Since Ben taught me,” Peter tells him, now chopping the last of the carrots. “Which, thank God, because otherwise May and I would have starved after…” Peter shrugs. “May can’t cook to save her life.”

“I recall,” Tony comments in amusement, and Peter laughs at that.

“God, I’m impressed you kept a straight face for so long,” Peter says, shaking his head with a fond smile before dumping the vegetables on the tray with the chicken. “I don’t mind cooking, though. I always loved cooking with Ben, and now it just gives May one less thing to worry about.”

Tony can’t help but look at the kid in awe. With all of his happy-go-lucky persona and witty comments, it’s easy to forget how much Peter’s been through. And yet he’s still so _good._

“Aren’t you just full of surprises?”

* * *

**things you said when you were miles away**

Peter: _but mr. stark, what’s the point of going to europe if you’re not going to adopt a raccoon dog?_

Tony: _...Kid, I’m not sure you quite understand the meaning of ‘business trip.’_

Peter: _by ‘business’ you mean adopting a raccoon dog, right? c’mon, look how cute they are! [Attachment: 1 Image]_

Tony: _I’m tired. You make me tired. Try not to blow up the entire state of New York while I’m gone._

Peter: _i would never! can’t wait to meet my new best friend. i’m gonna name him francis! :D_

Tony: _Read 9:57PM_

* * *

**things you said when you were right here**

“Hiya, Pete,” Tony greets as the kid walks into the lab, not looking up from where he’s adding grease to DUM-E’s wheels. He was getting tired of hearing the robot squeak every time it’s given a task.

“Hm,” Peter hums noncommittally, and Tony frowns at that, looking up. The kid almost always comes in with a cheerful greeting, sometimes foregoing pleasantries entirely in favor of rambling about his day.

He narrows his eyes and watches Peter walk over to his desk, plopping his back on the ground and sitting in his chair.

Then he just sits there and stares.

“Peter?” Tony prompts cautiously. “You okay, buddy?”

The kid doesn’t seem to hear him. Tony gets up, worry tugging at his chest as he walks over and kneels in front of Peter, turning the chair so the kid is facing him. He grips the vigilante’s knee firmly.

“Peter,” Tony says sharply. “Look at me. Where are you, bud?”

Peter blinks unseeingly at him, and Tony can’t help the way his gut twists at seeing Peter so… blank. It’s not the first time time he’s seen the kid like this, but it never fails to unnerve him.

“ _Peter_ ,” Tony repeats, punctuating the word with a tight squeeze but careful not to bruise.

Peter blinks again, awareness seeping back into his gaze. He feels like a hot air balloon being brought back to Earth, and he flinches at the hurt that seeps in with it. His chest caves in with the rush of panic that tries to hit him. He shakes his head vehemently.

He doesn’t want to be here. He doesn’t want to _think._ “No…” he says with a soft whine.

“Hey, hey, _no_ , you’ve gotta stay with me, buddy,” Tony insists, reaching up to take Peter’s face in his hands, willing the boy to look at him. “I know you want to get away, but you have to stay here. Whatever’s stressing you out – we can handle it together, you hear me?”

There’s a conflict raging inside of Peter, invisible to the eye. A desire to not be present mixed with a completely different need to cling to Tony, to accept his safety. But God, being away is so much easier. To not think, to not _be._

Tony must see it in his face, because he runs soothing hands through his curls and tugs gently at them in an attempt to tether Peter to the here and now. “Look at me, Peter,” he tries again. “Tell me where you are.”

“I don’t – I – _please,_ I couldn’t save – I _can’t,_ ” Peter says brokenly, eyes filling with tears as he fixes Tony with a look that’s suddenly and painfully aware. “I couldn’t save her.”

“Shhh, don’t think about that,” Tony tells him, having no clue what Peter’s talking about. “All that matters right now is you. Tell me where you are.”

A single tear falls from Peter’s eye, the first raindrop of a hurricane, as he brokenly says, “I’m – I’m here. With you.” He sounds devastated as Tony pulls him into his arms.

“That’s right,” Tony says fiercely as the kid cries into his chest. “I’ve got you.”

* * *

**things you said that i wish you hadn’t**

“And I wanted you to be better.”

Peter spends years striving to meet that arbitrary point. The words hang over him like strings to his puppet, a new driving force behind everything he does.

He compares everything he does to Iron Man, an impossible standard.

(Tony wanted to take the words back the moment he said them.

Peter’s always been better than him.)

* * *

**things you said when you were scared**

The first thing that registers to Peter is the hard cement beneath him. He blinks his eyes furiously, trying to clear the darkness from them to no avail.

“Peter! You with me, bud?” a familiar voice asks, hushed and urgent.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter asks, lifting himself into a sitting position. A hand grasps his shoulder, and he jumps before leaning into it. “Where are we?”

Tony kneels in front of him, trying to conceal his worry. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” he says grimly. “Are you hurt?” He hands ghost down Peter’s side, checking for any injuries.

“I don’t – I don’t think so,” Peter says uncertainly, and Tony nods, looking relieved. “What happened?”

Tony grimaces. “I’m not sure of that, either. I woke up minutes before you did. The last thing I remember is leaving the diner. You?”

Peter wracks his brain, and realizes it’s about the same for him. He remembers Tony laughing at him for eating six plates of Alfredo, the two of them stepping onto the street, a bang, and then – nothing. He shakes his head.

The sudden sound of quick footsteps approaching has Peter jumping and grabbing Tony’s sleeve in apprehension.

“Someone’s coming,” he whispers in a small voice. Fear flashes across Tony’s face, and he quickly grasps the sides of Peter’s face.

“Peter, listen to me,” Tony says lowly, voice deadly serious and wrought with fear for his kid. “Don’t say anything to them. You need to lay low – no tricks. I’m going to get us out of here, I promise.”

Peter nods quickly, eyes wide. Tony gives him one last pleading look to just _behave_ before turning to face the door, standing protectively in front of the kid.

The door bursts open with a clang.

* * *

**things you said when you were the happiest you ever were**

It was the first Thanksgiving after the reversal of the Snap, and everyone – all the Avengers, along with their kids and family - were packed into Tony’s elegant dining room and seated around one large table piled high with food.

Peter, to Tony’s chagrin, had insisted that they all go around and share what they’re most thankful for.

Growing up, Tony never experienced a moment like this. Never spent a Thanksgiving with his parents that wasn’t formal and uncomfortable, was never asked what he was thankful for. Then again, that was probably a good thing – he wouldn’t have had an answer.

When Peter turns his big doe eyes onto Tony and asks, “What about you, Mr. Stark? What are you most thankful for?” Tony has to look away. He feels the weight of everyone’s gaze on him, and worries, albeit irrationally, that he’s going to say the wrong thing.

The first time he’s ever had something to be thankful for, and he’s probably going to fuck it up. A hand reaches over and squeezes his reassuringly, and Tony looks up at Pepper and gives her a grateful look.

He clears his throat and looks around the table, overcome by the fact that, after everything they’ve been through, they’re all here. Together. His gaze finds its way back to Peter’s encouraging one. A foreign feeling rushes into his chest, making him almost lightheaded in its intensity.

 _Happiness,_ his brain supplies. _This is happiness._

“This,” Tony says simply. “I’m thankful for this.”

Peter grins. They all understand.

* * *

**things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear**

One of Peter’s favorite things to do is crawl on the walls and scare the shit out of Tony. He’s pretty sure Tony probably wants to kill him for it.

Sometimes, he startles Tony so badly that his mentor calls the suit. Other times, Tony doesn’t even blink, merely continuing what he’s doing without sparing the kid so much as a glance.

This time, Peter’s quietly creeping across the ceiling towards Tony’s office, where Pepper had practically shoved him into to get some paperwork down. Tony usually keeps the door open, but hopefully he’ll be so engrossed that he won’t notice Peter come in.

When Peter hears the sound of Tony talking angrily on the phone, he pauses just outside the doorway so Tony can’t see him.

“I don’t care if God Himself wants him on this mission – he’s _not going,_ ” Tony is saying fiercely, and Peter cocks his head in interest.

“No – _you_ need to listen to _me,_ Fury,” Tony snarls into the phone. “I already lost the kid once. I’m not taking any more unnecessary risks. Not with him.”

Peter’s stomach does a flip as he realizes Tony’s talking about _him._ For a moment, he can’t help but feel indignant at the fact that Tony doesn’t think he can handle whatever the mission is. He’s fought homicidal Titans, for God’s sake – hasn’t he more than proven himself by now?

Tony’s next words make Peter’s blood freeze in his veins, and he suddenly understands what this is _really_ about.

“Frankly, I don’t give a shit if the rest of the world needs Spider-Man,” Tony says heatedly. “Not anymore. Because _I_ need Peter Parker. So you can find someone else to do your dirty work, because it’s not gonna be him. FRIDAY, end call.”

The line goes silent, and Peter stays completely still, throat tight with emotion. He hears Tony take in a shaky breath.

And though he can’t help but feel guilty for the shit he’s put Tony through, something warm bubbles in Peter’s chest.

It’s one of the few times he’s ever felt like Peter Parker is more valued than Spider-Man.

* * *

**things you said after it was over**

When Tony finds Peter, the kid is on the floor of a warehouse, half-naked and tied to a post. He’s shivering violently from the cold and barely lucid, and Tony wastes no time before rushing over to him. Tony kneels in front of him while Rhodey cuts at the rope.

“T-Tony?” Peter asks, barely coherent but trying valiantly to stay awake. Tony quickly shrugs out of his jacket and drapes it over the kid, covering the bruised and mottled skin. Peter hardly even flinches.

“Yeah, kid, it’s me,” Tony reassures him, carefully tilting the kid’s face up to examine him better. Peter winces, and Tony drops his hand, as if stung.

The last of the ropes are cut, and Peter immediately slumps forward into Tony’s waiting arms. Tony gently pulls him close, hating that he can feel each knob of Peter’s spine.

“’S’it over?” Peter slurs tiredly, exhausted tears soaking into Tony’s shirt as the man carefully scoops him up.

“Yeah, buddy,” Tony tells him, cradling him like a child. “You’re safe now.”

* * *

**things you said after the first mission**

They’re the first words that ever makes Peter feel really and truly proud. Words that he replays in his head over and over, even has he sits on his bed and makes up a half-assed excuse for his black eye. They’re words that leave a warm feeling in his chest, the feeling of approval right where he so desperately wants it.

“You did a good job, kid.”

**Author's Note:**

> I say this every time, but this isn't my best piece of writing. I'm okay with that, though. This was originally meant to be an exercise in dialogue, but obviously I get too distracted by inner thoughts. But anyway, I hope I managed to tell a few enjoyable stories. I'm planning on hopefully writing a companion piece to this of things Peter says to/about Tony.
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments! As always, come chat with me on tumblr @the-great-escapism.
> 
> Extra Note: Listen, it's 4:30AM, so I'm sure my tired eyes didn't edit well. I'll go back through eventually.


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